Make You Believe
by Cheeky Slytherin Lass
Summary: In which Daphne is worth more than a one night stand.


**Written For**

 **Convince Me Competition (Round 8: BlaiseDaphne)**

 **Gringotts Prompt Bank-**

 **Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland: (location) balcony**

 **The Rescuers: (action) kiss on the cheek**

 **Sons of Anarchy: (action) smoking a cigarette**

 **Charmed: (dialogue) "Has anyone told you how beautiful your eyes are?"/ "Have you been drinking?"**

* * *

Daphne leans against the railing of the balcony, pulling the filter from between her lips and exhaling a cloud of smoke. She can hear the noise from inside the manor, cheerful chatter and giddy giggles. She rolls her eyes, and maybe she hates herself a little bit for being so bitter.

"Has anyone told you how beautiful your eyes are?"

The voice catches her off guard, and she jumps slightly, her cigarette falling far to the ground below. She turns, brows raised at Blaise who just grins. "Have you been drinking?" she asks dryly.

He laughs and moves closer. "Don't be like that. I knew you were beautiful well before my fourth glass of firewhiskey," he insists. "Why are you sulking on the balcony? It's your sister's engagement party. Shouldn't you be celebrating?"

Daphne sighs, turning her gaze to the stars above. She doesn't want to voice the things she feels. They're too childish, petty.

Blaise leans against her, the strong spicy aroma of liquor rolling off of him. "Come on, Daphne. You can tell me," he says, his words slightly slurred. "Something is bothering you, and I wanna know what's so major that it can ruffle the great Daphne Greengrass."

She scowls. "My younger sister is getting married before I am," she sighs. "Hell, I can't manage more than a string of one night stands, and she's met the love of her life and gotten commitment from him."

His arms wrap around her. "No two night stands?"

Daphne groans. She considers shoving him away, but, in his state, he might wobble and fall over the railing. She can't take that risk. "You're impossible, Blaise."

"I like to think of myself as charming," he laughs before pulling away from her, stumbling.

Daphne reaches for him, grabbing him with steady hands. "You're going to get yourself killed, idiot."

"You're pretty."

With a roll of her eyes, Daphne puts her arm around him for support. "And you're drunk," she says. "Let's get you home so you can sober up."

…

"You could just leave him in a bedroom," Astoria says, look at Blaise with her nose wrinkled. "Draco wouldn't mind. Unless he puked everywhere."

Daphne frowns at Blaise. His body is too slack, and the grin that spreads over his face is a little too out there. "I think it would be better to get him home," she says. "He might wake up disoriented and break something."

She leans in and kisses her younger sister's cheek. "I'm pretty tired, too," she adds. "I'll see you at breakfast. Tell Draco I'm sorry I had to leave so suddenly."

"Be careful, Daphne."

"Always."

…

Blaise sits up as Daphne starts for the door. "Stay," he says, and she notices that his voice is no longer slurred.

"You sobered up fast," she notes suspiciously.

Blaise grins at her, shrugging.

"Did you fake being shitfaced so that I had an excuse to leave the party?"

His grin broadens as he pats a spot on the mattress beside him. "A Zabini has to have a lot more alcohol than that to even reach tipsy," he chuckles. "You looked uncomfortable, but you would never excuse yourself. You're so faithful to your sister. It's kind of cute, actually."

She doesn't know if she wants to kiss him or choke him. After a moment's thought, Daphne decides neither would be appropriate. She sits beside him. "Thank you, I guess," she says.

"So, I wasn't drunk when I told you that you're pretty. You really are," he says, resting his hand on her thigh.

Daphne inhales sharply, painfully aware of the way his touch sends chills up her spine. She pulls away, silently reminding herself that she can't keep falling into bed with every boy that compliments her.

Blaise leans closer again, but she realizes that he's respectful of her need for distance. He doesn't overwhelm her, doesn't try to force his way in. He simply places a gentle hand on her shoulder. "You really are beautiful, Daphne," he insists. "And so what if Astoria marries before you? We aren't our parents. We aren't still marrying off our eldest to the highest bidder. Astoria found love, and so will you."

Daphne can't help but to laugh. She doesn't know how he can speak of love like it's a possibility. All she's ever known is lust, desire, wanting. She's always been a pretty face worth little more than a quick shag and no goodbye in the morning.

"I always fancied you, you know," he whispers, resting his head on her shoulder. "You were always so beautiful and clever."

She closes her eyes, and she wants to believe him so badly.

"I'm not saying we should get married. That would be silly right now. But we could try. Maybe we could get along nicely. We could have a future."

She turns to him, their faces so close together. Heart fluttering, she kisses him. "I think I would like to try."


End file.
